A Bright, Shining Star
by addieredd
Summary: Owen tries to deal with the abortion and decides to honor his lost child. Post 8x02 ONESHOT


It was the hardest thing he had ever done. Going there. Telling her that they'd be okay. Holding her hand. Hearing the baby's, his baby's, heartbeat, right before it was about to die. He sometimes wondered why they even did it. Leaving the monitor on, while killing a baby. It was just cruel. He knew it was to navigate, but still. At least they turned down the volume. But he could still hear it. She had closed her eyes and tried to hide her tears away. When he asked her if she was sure, absolutely sure, he still hoped that she would somehow change her mind. But she didn't. So they started. The monitor was on silent, but he could still see it from the corner of his eye. He tried to look away, but he couldn't. He saw the heart rate getting faster. Of course a normal person wouldn't have seen it, but as a doctor, he knew. It got faster and faster, and he thought that it was trying to flee, trying to move away from the deadly suction. Maybe it was all on his mind. It probably was. But he still couldn't help to look away. He watched the heartbeat, so fast that it was almost on the edge. And then it was gone. The room was completely silent as a single tear rolled down his face.

When he woke up the next morning, it was still very early. He hadn't slept much. Cristina had woken up a couple of times with some sort of panic attack, but he'd been able to calm her down. Now, she seemed to be sleeping very soundly. He got up. As he walked in the living room he saw her purse on the floor. They hadn't felt like cleaning up last night. So he picked it up but first didn't realize, that something had fallen out. It was a piece of paper. As he gave it a closer look, he recognized what it really was. It was an ultrasound picture. He picked it up. He had to hold himself together. But he couldn't just throw it away. He put his finger on the little spot on the paper. It didn't feel like the usual material ultrasound pictures were printed on. Then he realized it – someone had cried. And the tears had made it wet. He turned it around in his hand. On the backside, someone had written something on it. When he read it, he started to cry again. "Oh Cristina..." He thought.

_I'm so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. You deserve better. _

_Love,_

_Mommy _

Why would she do this? Why would she put it somewhere he could find it? It was the last piece he had from his unborn child. Then he had an idea. He got dressed, wrote a note for Cristina and left.

When he arrived at the cemetery, he still wasn't sure why he was doing this. But somehow he just felt the need to do it, just to get some peace, at least for the day. He needed to bury his kid, or what he had of it. He reached an old oak tree and knelt down. He took a candle out of his pocket. He lit it and placed it on the ground. It took him a lot of strength to take out the ultrasound picture. With his hands, he moved a little bit of the earth and placed the picture underneath it. On top, he put some fresh earth. The whole time he was crying. So desperate, so alone, he was sitting there on the ground crying over someone he had never even met. But it had been his own flesh and blood. A part of him had died with his child that never got the chance to grow up, to take his or her first breath, to take a first step, to say a first word or to be held by loving parents. In its short life, it had never experienced its father touching its Mom's belly and telling it how much it was loved. Never, not once. It had been a short, painful life.

"Daddy is so sorry. I should've fought harder for you. I really should. I will never forgive myself. I hope you're up there with your grandfather, your mother really loved him you know. Tell him that. And I'm sure he'll take good care of you. I love you. I'll never forget, you'll always be in my heart, I promise."

He stood up. And as he looked at the still pretty dark sky, he saw a shooting star. One last tear rolled down his cheek. His kid was up there with God. Or at least he hoped so. He had to believe it. It was now a bright, shining star in the sky.


End file.
